Vertigo
by admiral-cain
Summary: Quinn didn't think anything of it when both Brittany and Santana were missing from school on Monday, not at first. WARNING: Character death.


_**Vertigo**_

Quinn didn't think anything of it when both Brittany and Santana were missing from school on Monday, not at first. It would happen sometimes, they would go off and skip together doing god knows what, or sometimes Mrs. Sylvester would force them to skip for an all-day practice when she was feeling particularly worried about an upcoming competition. It was when they weren't even in Glee practice after school that Quinn began to wonder. After sectionals, it was a fairly open secret that both girls loved being in Glee club. They never missed it. Pulling out her phone, she sent a quick text to Santana at the beginning of practice.

**S, where are you and B? Did coach make you do an extra long practice today?**

She never got a response, but she didn't think anything of it.

* * *

The vibrating of her phone shocked her awake, and Quinn fumbled around in her grogginess for the source of the light that was blinding in the darkness. She had to squint and wait a minute before she could read the caller ID, but when she did, confusion replaced her sleepiness. Why the hell was Santana calling her at four in the morning?

"Santana…?" She was speaking quietly, but Santana's voice was barely audible over the speaker.

"Can you come over, Quinn?"

She didn't need to say anything more.

* * *

Santana was waiting for her on the porch when Quinn pulled into the driveway of the Lopez house, sitting straight up on the stairs. Quinn walked up to her slowly, making sure to be quiet, every footstep deafening in the stillness of the night. Even Santana herself was far too still, she was always cold but never this _empty_.

"What's wrong?" Her voice was too loud, and the way Santana stood up without once catching her gaze just weighed down the heavy feeling in her gut even further. The girl just led her inside and up the stairs to her room, and Quinn didn't ask any questions. As soon as the door was shut and locked behind them, Santana caught her gaze, the tears in her eyes shining brightly in the dim light of the room. As if on unseen instinct, she hugged her arms to her chest and dropped her gaze, refusing to look up even when Quinn placed a hand on her shoulder. It was like something broke inside of her, her shoulders shaking with sobs and the strained sounds of her crying filling the room.

Quinn wasn't sure what to do. She'd only seen Santana cry twice, once when her brother left for college and another when her father ended up in the hospital after having a heart attack, but it was never like this. She just sounded so defeated, sad, and exhausted that Quinn was taken aback. This was Santana, the girl whose wrath was about as infamous as her smirk and blasé demeanor. To see her looking so utterly broken and lost just made Quinn hurt. It hurt even more to think that this girl was her friend, one of her best friends, the only reason she was willing to come to her house in the middle of the night just because she'd asked. She wasn't really sure why Santana had called her, she was awful with comforting people, but she figured there had to be a reason, so she squeezed her friend's shoulder and hoped that it spoke more than she could ever hope to.

Santana all but launched herself into Quinn's arms, her face buried deep against her neck, tears hot and wet against her skin. All Quinn could think to do was wrap her arms softly around her and rub her back as she cried even harder, her whole body shaking with the force of her sobs. She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, her arms wrapped around Santana as they stood in front of the door, it was all inconsequential once Santana spoke.

"Brittany's dead…she's gone…" Even muffled, Quinn could make out exactly what Santana was mumbling against her skin, cutting through her and leaving her cold. Reality seemed to fade into something surreal, like a nightmare that she so desperately wanted to wake up from, but that she knew she couldn't. The numbness that crept into her did nothing to ward off the pain that clawed at her heart, so she did all she could do, pulling Santana close against her chest and crying with her.

* * *

The doctors said she'd had a seizure in her sleep, that it was it. It was just some sort of freak occurrence. 'Sometimes these things happen. At least it was painless.' He'd said it like it was supposed to be some sort of comfort. Quinn just wanted to scream at him the moment that she felt Santana's hand trembling in her grasp. Couldn't he see that she was falling apart? Of course he couldn't, he didn't know Santana, he couldn't see that her stony features and trembling were more than just anger, that it was sadness and hurt and pain and a sense of helplessness all bubbling beneath the surface. He couldn't see that she was about to shatter, just like she had the night before, and Quinn wanted to be angry with him but she couldn't manage it. He didn't know Santana, after all, but she did.

"Come on, San." Quinn spoke softly, tugging Santana by her hand from the spot he'd been rooted to on the tile floor of the hospital. It took a moment of pulling, but she finally complied, following Quinn out to the car while Brittany's parents stayed to finish talking with the doctors. As soon as they reached Brittany's parent's car, the SUV shielding them from public view, Santana pulled her hand fiercely from Quinn's grasp and sank to her knees. The tears came hard and fast, just like they had before, her whole body shaking with the force of her tears, but she was also shaking with something else.

Quinn barely had time to register what Santana was going to do before she balled her hands into fists and pounded them against the ground, the rough asphalt tearing through the skin of her knuckles like a hot knife through butter. In seconds, Quinn was down on her knees, grabbing at Santana's arms, trying to force her to stop, but the damage was already done. Her fingers and knuckles were shredded, blood seeping readily from the wounds, and she could see the bruises already beginning to form across the back of her hand.

"Santana, stop!" Quinn spoke fiercely enough to shock Santana, stopping her from struggling in her grip. She was still trembling, but not at much as before, tears running readily down her cheeks with soft sobs.

"It's not fucking fair." She mumbled, eyes fixated on the spot of the ground that was now tainted with her blood. "Why did she have to die? She was the best damn person in our school, in this whole fucking town, she didn't deserve this! It's not _fucking_ fair, Q!" As her friend's tears started coming more readily, Quinn pulled her softly towards her chest, letting Santana bury her face into her and wrap her arms around her. She held on tightly, like if she tried hard enough and willed enough that it would bring Brittany back to her. Quinn didn't have it in her to ask her to loosen her grip, even though it hurt. Santana was mumbling into her neck, most of it nearly-incoherent reiterations of what she'd already yelled.

"I know…" Was all she could get herself to repeat. She couldn't say it was all going to be alright, because she knew it wasn't going to be. Brittany was gone, nothing would ever be alright again, never like it was. They could heal, but she knew Santana would always bear the scars. So she settled on softly letting her know that she knew, that she understood, and that she was here. It was what Santana needed the most, to have someone there for her, and it was what she needed, too.

By the time that Brittany's parents showed up at the car, Santana's tears had soaked through the collar of her shirt and her blood had left deep crimson stains on her back. Neither of them spoke, instead ushering both girls into the backseat of the car. Quinn buckled Santana in, who had calmed down but still had silent tears slipping down her cheeks, softly taking her hands and pressing them against her shirt to try and stop the bleeding. They stayed that way all the way back to Santana's house, in complete silence.

Santana jumped out of the car as soon as they were parked in the driveway, but Brittany's parents stopped Quinn from leaving as soon as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

"We wanted to say thank you, for looking after Santana." Her mother spoke softly. "We know our daughter loved her very much. She would want someone to take care of her, and we just…we can't…"

"We have enough to deal with at home. We can't take care of her on top of it." Her dad picked up where her mother left off. " We're glad that you're here for her, and we wanted to say thank you. It's what Brittany would've wanted."

Quinn just nodded and exited the car.

* * *

Santana was just lying on her side, staring blankly ahead at her bedroom wall through the darkness. Quinn sighed softly, the noise barely louder than that of Santana's even breathing. Gently, she reached across Santana's waist, grabbing for her hands in the darkness. The ace bandages were rough beneath her fingers, but it was enough to get her attention.

"You should try and sleep." Quinn spoke softly. Santana didn't move to turn to her, she just pulled the covers up a little closer to her chin, breaking Quinn's hold on her hands.

"I can't." Santana finally whispered, her voice excruciatingly tiny. Quinn bit her lip to force back the tears behind her eyes that threatened to spill.

"Just try." Quinn locked her arm across Santana's waist, pulling the girl's back close against her chest, her muscles tense beneath Quinn's touch. She knew Santana would never say it, but she just needed someone to be close to her. She needed someone to force her to take care of herself, or she would just wallow in her anger and her sadness until she couldn't take it anymore. Quinn bit down harshly on her lip, resting her forehead against the top of Santana's back, the sounds of her breath amplified.

"I don't want to wake up." Santana whispered, barely audible. Quinn didn't reply.

* * *

Quinn's father woke her up the next morning with an angry phone call. By the time she was done speaking to him in harsh whispers, Santana was wide awake, her dark eyes fixated on the ceiling.

"I have to go to school." Santana didn't reply. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Quinn quickly slipped out from under the covers and got dressed. For a moment, her gaze locked on her friend, lying on her back, just staring. She just looked so absolutely devastated that Quinn felt terrible that she had to leave her alone. She paused in the doorway.

"Don't do anything stupid, okay, S? You know she'd hate it if you did."

* * *

It took all the energy that Quinn had left to change clothes and climb under the covers of her own bed, pulling her second pillow in front of her and wrapping her arms around it tight. The tears began to slip from her eyes without warning, her barriers beaten and bruised from the long day of questions and worries when all she really wanted to do was go home and cry and think of Brittany.

Finally, she did just that.

* * *

Santana didn't come to school for the rest of the week, and every time that Quinn tried to go over to see her at her house, her mother was always the one to answer the door. It was no different on Saturday morning, at least not at first, when the blonde's heart sank at the first glimpse of Mrs. Lopez through the open door. This time, she noticed, the woman was different. She looked less tired, less haggard, less like she'd stayed up all night with her only daughter. The sound of a violin drifted lazily out from inside the house as Mrs. Lopez gave her the beginning of a smile.

"Santana's in the sun room." The woman spoke as she stepped aside to let Quinn pass. Quinn just smiled at her and murmured a soft 'thank you' before continuing down the hall. The sound of the violin grew louder and louder until she came to a door, pressing it open slowly to reveal Santana. She looked better than before, less tired, but her eyes were still red and puffy from her tears. Quinn's were, too.

Santana didn't turn to face her at first, instead focusing on the placement of her fingers on the neck of the violin. Her hands were bare, red scabs marring the front of her hands and the bruises making them look practically purple, but at least it was better than before.

"I haven't seen you play in years…" Quinn breathed, walking until she was next to her friend, who looked at her with something different in her eyes than the last time she saw her.

"I know." Santana spoke back quietly, her voice lacking every bit of bite that Quinn had become so accustomed to. It was sometimes hard to remember that she hadn't always acted the way she did in high school. "She loved it when I would play for her."

"I know." Quinn replied. For a moment, they were completely silent, Quinn staring at Santana and Santana staring out the large window. "I tried to come back-"

"I know. I just needed some time alone, Q." She isn't harsh when she cuts her off, and Quinn would've smiled at the brightness beginning to shine in her eyes if the situation had been different. Her fingers returned to the strings of the violin and she raised her bow, playing the soft beginning of a song that Quinn recognized: Czardas. She passed Santana, sitting down at the bench of the piano in the corner of the room, lifting up the cover and resting her fingers on the keys. It had been a long time since she'd played, too, but that wasn't going to stop her. Santana stopped playing as Quinn played the first few notes, her fingers moving of their own accord. The violin began once more at its proper cue, the music drifting lazily over them both.

It was like the summer before freshman year all over again, where they would just spend days in the Lopez sunroom, Santana playing violin and Quinn accompanying her. It didn't matter what they played, just that they were playing _something_. Brittany would always lounge on the floor, just watching them with a smile that was half wonder and half love for as many hours as they could keep it up. Somehow, they would always manage to come back to Czardas.

'That's my favorite.' Brittany would say, so they would play it again.

As they hit the final few notes of the song, Quinn turned, fully expecting to see Brittany grinning up at both her and Santana and a smile on Santana's face that she saved only for Brittany. Instead, she only saw Santana standing perfectly still, looking tired and broken. Her heart sank, and she could see in Santana's eyes when their gazes met that hers had done the same.

"Again?" Santana asked softly.

They played until their fingers were sore.

* * *

The first time that Santana came back to Glee, she barely held herself together for thirty seconds after crossing the threshold of the practice room before tears started running down her cheeks and the sudden force of her sobs forced her to her knees. Quinn was at her side in a second, helping her up and out of the room. She hurried them to the girl's bathroom, which never failed to be empty after school. Santana latched herself around Quinn, sobbing heavily into her shoulder. Like the first night, Quinn held her and rubbed her back, whispering soothing things in her ears.

"I'm sorry…" Santana murmured, muffled by her skin and clothing. Quinn held her a little tighter.

"Why? For crying? It's okay to cry…"

"No, it isn't. N-nobody wants to see me like this."

"We're all sad, San. It's okay for you to be sad, too."

* * *

The second time Santana came back to Glee, she cried again, but it was without shame. She let Quinn scoop her up into a hug, and the blonde couldn't help but smile slightly. She'd made it a whole minute before her emotions overcame her, and she even let Puck try to awkwardly comfort her with a hand on her back.

It was a start.

* * *

At Brittany's funeral, they all cried. Quinn, Santana, the Glee club, Brittany's family, Mrs. Lopez, everyone. They just stood next to her grave as her coffin was lowered slowly into the ground, clinging to each other however they could manage, desperate for the contact.

Not one of them was ashamed.

* * *

When Santana walked in to the practice room without her uniform on for the first time since high school began, Quinn was confused. The Latina took a seat beside her, silent and still, like she always was since Brittany died. Sometimes, Quinn missed how she used to be, in a way that left the hairs on the back of her neck standing because this girl just wasn't Santana.

"What's up?" Quinn asked in a hushed voice. Santana shrugged.

"I quit the Cheerios." She said it with such nonchalance that it threw Quinn off.

"What?"

"I quit. I hate all the other girls on the squad, and they kept saying things that just made me want to knock them all out." She turned and caught Quinn's gaze, her dark eyes blazing with an intensity that hadn't been seen in a long time. It was a relief. "Besides, the only reason I stayed in it was for Britt, anyway."

Quinn smiled and nodded, turning away from Santana and towards Mr. Schue as practice began, forcing away any apprehensive or worried feelings towards her friend. There wasn't a need for them, she told herself. Santana was broken, but she was starting to put the pieces of herself back together again.

* * *

On the day that they're scheduled to take group pictures for the yearbook, Santana brings a framed portrait of Brittany. Quinn recognizes it as the same one that Brittany's mom gave to her a month after the funeral, when Quinn was over for dinner. The woman had showed up at the Lopez's door with the picture and a necklace, saying nothing, but she didn't have to. Santana had continued to wear the necklace even as winter gave way to spring, and the picture had never once moved from her bedside table, no matter how many times she caught Santana gazing at it with a hollow sadness in her eyes.

They line up, Quinn and Santana taking what seemed to be their place at the outskirts of the group, but Puck is suddenly pulling them towards the center as the rest of the club grouped around them, trapping them there. Santana turned the picture outward, so it was facing the camera, holding it on one side. Quinn quickly reached out and grabbed the other side, realizing in the moment just how close everyone was. Puck had his hands resting softly on both their backs, Rachel was pressed up against Santana's other side, smiling at her, while Artie was doing the same from beside Quinn.

The whole club looked forward and smiled as the shutter clicked a few times, and for the first time in a long time it didn't seem forced. The tension that had hung over them for so long after Brittany's death, the feeling of walking on eggshells, of never quite knowing what to do, it was finally gone.

Quinn didn't realize she was teary until she realized that everyone else was, too.

* * *

Quinn shivered slightly as the cool fall breeze bit at her skin through her sweater, pulling it that much closer against her. She found herself sitting cross-legged on the grass next to Santana, who was leaning back against Brittany's gravestone, just like the first time she went missing and Quinn found her in the cemetery. Only this time, her face wasn't streaked with tears, and it had been a while since she'd gained back the weight she'd lost rapidly in those first few months after Brittany's death.

Her daughter began to coo quietly in her arms, and Quinn rocked her gently to satisfy her. Santana just smiled softly at them both, before she tilted her head back and stared up at the clouds as they passed overhead.

"The first time we kissed was at her birthday party, before freshman year…" Santana spoke softly, the wind nearly carrying away her words.

"I know." Quinn replied, just as soft. "I distracted everyone so they wouldn't come looking for you guys." They both laughed quietly at the memory.

Quinn laid back on the grass, holding the baby close against her chest, staring up at the clouds in the same way that her friend was.

"I love her more than I've ever loved anyone." Santana whispered.

"I know." Quinn replied.


End file.
